


You Did Well

by gschmitt



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 19:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12710997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gschmitt/pseuds/gschmitt
Summary: “Why do you think they’re disappointed in you?”Uh-oh. You saw his jaw clench. He’s annoyed. You’ve annoyed him.“Why do you think?” He retorted, tone harsh and cold.





	You Did Well

**"HE’D BE DISAPPOINTED.”**

_Who?_  You didn’t need to ask. You knew who he was referring to.  _Disappointed in what?_  You didn’t need to ask that, either. You knew he was referring to himself.

Gladiolus had been like this for a while, now. After the darkness had fallen, he’d gone into a...depression, of sorts. At first, you didn’t really notice that much of a difference in his behaviour— _in him_ —but as time went on, it became more obvious. He was grieving. He was in mourning. The universe took his father first, then it took his best friend, too.  _No_ ,  **his brother**. They took the person he was meant to protect. And not only was he grieving, he was angry. Mostly at himself.

You knew he was beating himself up every waking moment. You were at a loss at what to do.

“You think so?” you ask, resting your forearms on the balcony railing. He didn’t reply; nodding slightly in response instead. He was thinking, thinking too much again. Sometimes you wished you could jump into his brain and listen to every single thought that crossed him. You wanted to be there every single time he doubted himself—hated himself—and pull him out of it. But it wouldn’t be that easy.

_Baby steps._

“I disagree,” you said, shuffling closer to him and linking your arms with his. The only acknowledgment you received from the large man was the quiet hum of approval he made once your head leaned to rest on his shoulder. “We should be going to bed, it’s getting late.” 

“Huh?  _Oh._ Yeah. Five more minutes. It’s nice out here.” 

Fine by you. You’d let him have five more minutes out here, on the balcony, basking in pretend contentment. You wondered if he knew that you could see past the walls he put up, if he’d ever let you see past them. You and Gladio had been in a relationship for more than ten years, and of course, you had your rough moments—mostly due to the long distance—but it had never been like this. He had gone through the death of his father; had moved on without needing anyone’s help. But the death of Noctis, right after the Prince returned to his friends, hit him harder than you had expected— _harder than he had expected_.

You’d always given Gladio tough love, as it’s what he gave to you. And you had planned to do that tonight. But you realised that he might need something different. He didn’t deserve tough love at a time like this, he deserved your full support and understanding. 

“Why do you think they’re disappointed in you?”

 _Uh-oh_. You saw his jaw clench. He’s annoyed. You’ve annoyed him. 

“Why do you think?” He retorted, tone harsh and cold. 

“They’re not disappointed in—“

“And how the hell would you know?” He stepped away from you, eyes full of fury and pain and... _regret?_  No, not regret. He wanted an answer. He wanted to believe in you, believe that they—Clarus, his father, and Noctis, his friend  _and brother_ —weren’t disappointed in him. But you’ve seen that look before; it’s the stubborn glint in his eye you catch before answering that makes you realise that you can’t convince Gladiolus,  _you have to show him_. You have to make him believe in himself again. And if that took months, or years, you didn’t care, you would prove to him that he wasn’t a disappointment; that he deserved to wake up every day and deserved to be happy.

He was not a failure. 

“I know they’re not disappointed in you because that’s who they are. They’re an extension of who you are, Gladio. And I know that if it was the other way around, and it was you instead of them, they wouldn’t be disappointed in themselves—because they know you wouldn’t stand for that at all.”

You walked up to him, ignoring his unapproachable posture and cradled his face with your palms. “There’s no way they can be disappointed in you. You haven’t ever given them an opportunity to. Your job wasn’t only to protect and guard, it was to be a friend, and a brother...and a son.  _And you did your job well._ ” 

You wanted to look away; his eyes were pained and doubtful, and they were burning right through your being. You had never seen him so hurt before, so vulnerable,  _so weak_. And it made you happy, not because he was hurting, but because he was finally allowing himself to feel—to be human. Even the strongest have their weaknesses, and you knew that Gladio did not like feeling weak—but he was allowing himself to feel weak around you. 

He didn’t have to guard himself around you. He could drop all his walls, and you would not see him differently. You would not judge him at his weakest moments.  _Finally_ , after years and years, he understood that.

You would never see him as weak. 

Within seconds, he broke down against your touch. The tears had broken through and had no intention of calming down. He pulled you into his embrace, as tight as he could—as if he was afraid you’d be gone, too, if he didn’t hold tight enough.

You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him. He didn’t say anything—anything coherent, at least—the only sounds coming from him were broken sobs and cries. You knew he didn’t want to talk, and that he probably wouldn’t be able to, anyway. That was fine. You would wait until he was ready. 

Gladio pulled away from you, cheeks still stained from his tears, and crashed his lips down on yours. Both of his hands were gently placed on your neck; thumb brushing over your pulse as an act of reassurance. He took his sweet time tasting you—tongue sliding over yours at an almost teasing pace. But you knew that wasn’t his intention; he was trying to savour every moment, every breath.

He broke the kiss and let out a content sigh and rested his eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours. He could stay like this forever, with you. He really wanted to. There was a feeling that was surging through his chest, one that he hadn’t felt in months. 

 _Hope?_  Maybe. There was a good chance it was hope. 

But he didn’t feel the need to put a label on what he was feeling. All he knew was that the weight on his shoulders was slowly lifting—and he wanted to taste you again. _Again and again_ , until the sun rose. He wanted to appreciate you, and reciprocate the love that never disappeared from your words and touch. 

He wanted to,  _and he was going to_. 

He looked down at your smaller frame, eyes immediately making their way to your tear-stained shirt. “Well,  _shit_. I ruined your cute shirt.” 

“Cute? It’s just a plain black shirt,” you raised your eyebrows at him and laughed. The corners of his mouth were slightly raised, and you were elated to see that his mood had changed. It was late, though, and you didn’t fail to notice the tired look in his eyes—although that could have been enhanced by his tears. “How about we go to bed now, and talk more in the morning?”

“Sounds good to me,” he placed a chaste kiss to your forehead, lingering slightly. He didn’t stop there, though. He trailed his kisses down your face, stopping at the corner of your mouth. 

 _Asshole._ He’s still a big tease.

“I’m not letting go of you tonight, I hope you know that. Sorry if you wake up all hot and sweaty, babe.”

You smile at that. And this time, he returns it—with teeth and all. 

You knew that he wouldn’t wake up, have some sort of epiphany and change for the best. It would still take time for him to move on; to stop beating himself up, and to stop viewing himself as a complete and utter disgrace. But you didn’t mind. You would be the most patient you could possibly be, for him. You’d be with him every step of the way. 

“Yeah. I hope you know I’m not letting you go, either.”

**Author's Note:**

> Like always, you can also find this on my tumblr [here](https://liberifatalis.tumblr.com/post/167447772532/you-did-well-gladio-x-reader)
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this. It's shorter than my other fics - not by much, though. Gladiolus deserves all the love in the world and yeah, he's a big, tough guy. But still! He needs some support too.
> 
> Also, I gotta figure out a way to title these...


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